Motorcycle Riding

When I was forty years old, I decided that everything I had learned in the last fifteen or so years was academically oriented.  BA degree.  Master’s degree, with an intent to work on a doctorate.  So, I thought I would learn something non-academic.  Like horseback riding.  Or motorcycle riding.  It didn’t take too long to rule out horseback riding.  I could not keep a horse in my back yard.  A horse takes food every day.  And, clean up.  And, to ride a horse, one must have a saddle, and the horses head gear to direct it in the path you want to take.

A motorcycle,  on the other hand, is self contained.  It can sit in the garage, and eats only gasoline and a little oil, occasionally.  Of course, a helmet is advised.  The decision came in overwhelmingly for learning to ride a motorcycle.  The next thing was to beg someone to teach me.  A friend, Lee, had motorcycles, and he agreed to teach me to ride.

Our first excursion was to Devil’s Head, south of Denver.  Lee had a trailer specially quipped to handle cycles and a truck strong enough to pull the loaded trailer.  I remember that on that first learning trip, the road was gravel, and it rained.  During the short downpour, we parked the bikes and climbed a short rise where an overhanging, HUGE rock gave us protection from the rain.  I remember being extremely uncomfortable while sitting under the rock in that rain.  I had visions of the rock collapsing and crashing down on my head.  It didn’t.

Larry was fine with me learning to ride a motorcycle with Lee’s instructions.  I learned, later, that Lee’s wife (who I thought was a good friend) was not.  Jealousy.  I cannot abide jealousy!  I remember that Lee was really in trouble for offering to teach me to ride.  That aside, it did not stop the three of us (Lee, Larry, and me) from enjoying riding.  I bought a Honda 125XL from my brother-in-law for me.  And, a Honda 90 for Larry.

We would take the bikes to the Cline Tops (again, Lee’s truck and trailer were involved), drive the twenty-six or so switchbacks to get to the top, and ride for the weekends.  Dirt roads.  Clean air.  The smell of the forest.  All wonderful.  Then, came the day when Lee’s son Mike joined us for the weekend with several friends.  I had not been riding a motorcycle for very long  – maybe, a year or so.  The son and friends suggested we take a certain road up a mountain.  I didn’t know anything about the road, but as the only woman in the group, was I going to say, no?  I wanted to ride the tried and true gravel roads.  Unlikely!

Off we went up the mountain road.  A few yards into the ride, I felt that I should have been riding a mountain goat, not my 125XL.  To his credit, every time I fell over (the road/trail was that rugged), Mike was there to pick me up, along with the bike.  Finally – FINALLY – after falling many times, we got to the crest of the mountain, and the trail turned into a gravel road that we traveled down and around to our camp.  I didn’t fall over going down that road.

For years, I had day and night time terrors, remembering how hard is was to ride that trail, and hoping against hope that no one would ever suggest taking it again.  Of course, the time came when Mike and friends joined us for riding, and, of course, they wanted to ride that trail, again.  My worst fears were realized.  Again, as the only woman, I felt that I could not stay in camp.  So, off we went.

Surprise!  The trail was a piece of cake.  I had gained enough experience with difficult trails that I no longer fell – or even wobbled – climbing that trail to the top.  My worries over riding the trail disappeared, and, as nearly as I could tell, had been a waste of time.  I often wonder if it was that experience that taught me to stop worrying because it is a waste of time.

Our motorcycle riding days came to an end when Larry required orthoscopic surgery for both knees.  While riding, you jam your knees more than once on a trip.  So, the bikes went on to live with other persons who loved riding.

It do think that all of this learning taught us to be aware.  Be concerned.  Be informed.  BUT DON’TWORRY!

Be safe and well.

The Cranky Crone

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